Babies In The Family
by icepops25
Summary: France and England are surprised to find that two of their former countries, America and Canada, have turned into infants. While these two new "parents" try to find out how this happened, they must work together to take care of the babies. FrUk, sad country feels, fluff
1. Infants

Grey storm clouds hung low over the streets of Britain. The silver pavement shone with the splattering of rain. A blonde haired man ran swiftly down the sidewalk and stopped in front of one of the large manors. A large basket sat in his arms. His hair and clothes stuck to his body. The humid air filling his lungs. He was rather handsome. Hair falling over the shoulders, a bit of stubble stretching across his chin. He was beautiful and yet he looked as if he lived a thousand years.

"Arthur!" He yelled, his French accent piercing the air.

After a few bangs at the gate, he stepped up on the railings and carefully climbed over the fence with his cargo. The emerald yard was huge but the Frenchman seemed to fly right past it. Right as he was skipping up the porch steps another blonde man opened the front door and peered into the rainy outdoors.

"Francis, I was just preparing tea," the man, Arthur, said, "I was coming. You didn't have to climb the bloody fence. What's so bad that you need to come here so anxiously?"

"Something happened to America and Canada."

Arthur stepped out onto the porch, worried and quite puzzled.

"What did they do this time? Were they trying another one of those stupid internet challenges and hurt themselves?"

Francis shook his head, "Non, they're-"

The basket in the Frenchman's arms made a large harmonized cry. He sat the woven basket on the floor and lifted the blanket, revealing two crying babies. The one on the left cried louder, the small hair he had had a couple strands standing up in a cowlick. While the one on the right had more wavy hair and was whimpering up at the two older nations.

Arthur fell onto his knees in shock.

"What- How did this happen?!"

Francis gave a small push on England and shushed him.

"Don't yell in front of them. I don't know what happened. I was visiting Matthew and the two of them were laying on Canada's bed sleeping."

Arthur sat confused, "We need to take them inside."

...

The two European nations brought the children into the master bedroom and replaced the babies' blanket with a drier one. Since there was no crib, they decided to let them use the basket since it had enough room for the two.

"They're babies..." Arthur mumbled to himself. Sure, he had seen babies before in his life. But he never saw his two former countries so young before. Small tears started to water his eyes.

Francis walked into the bedroom. He had changed his wet clothes for one of Arthur's less tacky outfits.

"I'm going to the store to buy some baby goods. Stay here and watch them please."

Arthur jumped off the bed and turned to the Frenchman.

"Don't leave me here. We need to talk about this. How did it even happen?"

"England, I'm just as worried and confused as you are but we need to get supplies. It's not easy to care for babies."

France walked over to his friend and gave him a warm hug and gave two comforting kisses on both his cheeks.

"I'll be right back, I promise."

He strolled out the room and out of the manor. England stayed in his place in front of the makeshift crib. They were young again.

Arthur remembered how there was once a time where he spent every waking moment teaching and loving the two North American countries as they grew up. A time before the wars and bloodshed. A time of happiness and family beginnings. He had always wished to see them young again. But this situation had happened so suddenly and made Arthur worried.

He untucked the blanket around Alfred and picked him up. He was so light. So soft in his clothes. The two looked like they were six months old at the most.

He held America close to him. The babies fell asleep once they were in the house so Arthur was very careful in handling the little ones. Alfred nuzzled his head on Arthur's chest and his tiny hand held England's shirt in a fist.

"You're back... My little brother..."


	2. How are we going to do this?

"Ok, I got: diapers, clothes, formula, bottles, baby powder, lotion, and everything I saw other parents getting."

Francis came in the bedroom with bags of items. England sat on the bed with a baby in each arm.

"Thank you," Arthur said, "Take care of them while I cook dinner and-... How many outfits did you buy?!"

Francis looked up from unpacking.

"If we are going to be taking care of infants, I want them to be the cutest babies in the world. I know Matthew will be."

Arthur rolled his eyes and set the babies down in their "crib". America was fast asleep, Canada was wide awake. France walked over to the small countries and caressed Matthews soft cheeks. The infant's large blue eyes smiled back at the Frenchman. He grabbed a hold of France's finger and held tight.

"Bonjour, mon petit. Comment est-ce arrivé à vous?"

He picked the small Canadian up and cradled him in his arms.

"Francis."

"Yes?"

Arthur watched him hold the baby in his arms, "Have you ever taken care of a baby before? Not like babysitting for a few hours. I mean actually raising an infant."

France looked down at the soft lump in his hands, "Well, no. Whenever I met new countries they were always children. And it's the same for you, no?"

England nodded his head and walked to the crib, picking up the sleeping American.

"We don't know how long we will be taking care of them. Until we find out what happened, we'll have to be like their parents again."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

England chuckled, "We have no choice."

...

While Francis searched on the Internet on how to properly care for a child, Arthur stood in the kitchen preparing a meal. The storm still raged on outside the windows. Even darker now that night was rolling in.

It had been so long since Arthur saw America so small and innocent. And this time, he was even smaller. Of course Arthur had always wanted to see Alfred younger one last time. But now that it had happened, it was quite nerve racking.

Arthur opened one of the drawers to get some utensils and found a large wooden stick laying in the midst of the spoons and forks.

"Isn't this my wand?" Arthur picked the wand out of the drawer. It shown of ebony in the warm kitchen light.

"I must've left it in here by mistake." He muttered to himself and headed for the basement door to put the wand back.

Before he could take another step, Francis caught him with one arm, the other holding a whimpering Alfred.

"What's wrong?"

"He's more your responsibility than mine."

"So? What are you trying to say?"

That's when he started to smell the reeking stench coming from Alfred's diaper. Arthur held his nose and stared at the child. How could a baby make something that smells so bad?

"Ok, give me a minute. I'll be right back."

"Arthur," Francis began softly, "Why do you have your wand?"

"Oh, I found it in the kitchen drawers. Strange really."

Francis looked suspiciously towards the Brit but shook it off with a smirk on his face.

"You really need your silly magic to help you cook a simple meal? That's so sad."

England sighed and went down to his dungeon, leaving Francis behind once more.

It was rather strange why the wand was sitting amongst the utensils. Did England use it at one point and just not remember to put it back?

Arthur walked into the cold stone basement, past all the bookshelves and jars of weird items. He opened one of the drawers on the desk in the far corner and placed the wand down in a small cloth.

As he headed back to the stairs, a series of bright colors came from the corner of his eye. He swiveled his head around and saw a bright pastel rocking horse leaning against the wall. Arthur kneeled next to it, feeling the painted wood. It looked brand new.

"Arthur Kirkland!" Francis called from the first floor.

"Yes, I-I'm coming!"

...

"Where am I going to sleep, Angletterre?"

After dinner the two European nations sat on the couch. Both feeding the babies in their arms.

"In the guest bedroom I suppose," Arthur mumbled trying to hold the bottle gently on America's mouth. Very fascinated in how much he ate.

Francis put his bottle down and began patting Matthew's back.

"The babies will be in your room. And I would hate to have you be the only one taking care of them during the night."

Arthur looked up from the American infant and stared at the Frenchman sitting next to him.

"Well, I guess your right. It's not like we haven't slept together before."

Francis giggled, "It almost sounds like you want to sleep with me."

England stuttered, "No, it's not like that. I'm just saying that it would be smarter to- Oh wipe that silly grin off your face!"


	3. First night

The storm outside was now a soft whisper in the dark and cold night. Francis and Arthur slept in the master bedroom together. They both sat on far ends of the bed. Trying to get as much sleep as they can until one of the brothers wake them up.

Then around one in the morning a small cry began to grow in the former silent night. Which ended up making the other child cry as well.

Arthur sprang up out of bed and rushed to the babies. Francis calmly stood out of bed and followed the Englishman to the crib. Alfred was wailing and rubbing his hands on his face. Matthew looked as if he was trying to reach out for a hug while tears rolled from his closed eyes.

Francis took the Canadian in his arms and tried to rock him close to his chest. Matthew immediately clinging on to his papa. England took America and the two European nations sat on the bed to take care of the infants.

"Arthur, go to bed," Francis said in a calming and sleepy voice, "I can feed them and put them back to slep. I noticed this afternoon that you have things to do tomorrow. You need sleep."

England yawned and shook his head.

"I'm not making you do this alone. Not the first night at least. But could you go downstairs and make some bottles?"

Francis smiled and handed little Canada to Arthur and began downstairs.

England looked at the two whimpering babies in his arms. They weren't crying as loudly now that they were being held with a warm touch. Arthur held them both closer. These were once his. And now France and him can start all over again. Take care of the small nations together.

France walked back in the room with bottles in his hands. He turned the bedroom light on and saw streams of tears flowing over England's cheeks.

"What's wrong? Did something happen to the children?" Francis asked anxiously.

"No, I just-" Arthur stammered over his words, "We get to be parents again. Big brothers. Together this time."

Francis put a comforting arm around the Brit and held tight to him.

"We can't do this, Arthur. We have to find a way to bring them back to their right ages again. You know this."

"I know," England replied choking on his words, "Oh I look like such a fool. I'm going to go to bed. Go ahead and take care of them tonight like you wanted. I'm sorry."

Francis hugged the Brit and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before taking the babies in his arms.

"Rest, Arthur. I'm here for you."

...

Arthur had quickly fallen back to sleep after giving the children to France. The tears that spilled on his cheeks were now dry and cold.

About a half an hour after he went to sleep he was woken up again by a soothing voice echoing in the room. He opened his eyes and could see in the dark Francis sitting in a chair rocking and singing the babies to sleep.

England didn't want to miss this moment. He laid still, listening to France sing in his native language. Each word sung like a hymn. Arthur never noticed how beautiful the Frenchman's voice was. It was calming and peaceful. And he could hear the soft snores of the infants as France finished his lullaby.

Arthur closed his eyes fast and felt Francis crawl into bed next to him. He turned to his other side and wrapped an arm around the other nation.

"Thank you, Francis. I'm sorry what happened. I-"

Francis held Arthur back in a hug and hushed him, "It's ok. I understand. I miss them when they were younger too."

"I love them, Francis..."

France gave a kiss to England's forehead. It wasn't frequent that he saw the Brit so distressed to the point of coming to France for comfort.

"They love you too. Trust me."


	4. What happened?

The children woke up two more times that night before the sun greeted them in the morning. England woke up first to his phone vibrating on the table next to him. He picked it up and turned the alarm off.

Francis slept softly. His hair falling over his face and his arm once more wrapped around the Englishman. Arthur picked the arm off him and set it on the pillow. Francis immediately felt it and squeezed the pillow close to him like a child and their teddy bear. Arthur wouldn't wake him up today. He knew how much Francis stayed up in the middle of the night.

Arthur walked to the crib to make sure that the children were still asleep and then went to the kitchen to prepare a breakfast meal for the couple. On the counter a black ebony wand sat.

"What in the bloody hell is-"

England ducked to the floor as the wand shot through the air towards his head. It hit the back wall and fell onto the floor. Red sparks flew out and produced scorch marks on the wall. Arthur stood dazed until he started hearing cries coming from the upstairs.

"Shit."

He ran upstairs and saw Francis getting out of bed and getting ready to help the babies.

"Oh Francis, I'm sorry. I didn't try to-"

"It's ok," Francis tried to hold back his slight anger, "It was time to wake up anyway. What was that noise?"

Arthur shuffled over to the crib "It was nothing important. Don't worry about it. I'll go clean it up. I'll be back in a tic."

Francis glared at the Brit and huffed. England looked at his feet and walked back to the kitchen downstairs. The wand still sat on the floor. The burns on the wall were now cold and dark. He bent down and brushed his hand against the wood. Immediately a blue flame burst out and wrapped around the Englishman's fingertips. He jumped back on the floor and clutched his hand tightly to his chest.

"Arthur, what's taking so long?"

Francis walked down the stairs with the babies softly cradled in his arms. Arthur quickly stood up and put his burnt hand behind his back.

"There's something we need to talk about," Arthur noted quickly.

Francis sat on the couch in the next room and laid the babies next to him.

"What? I-...Well, tell me while you help change these diapers."

England grabbed the diaper bag and began unbuttoning Alfred's onesie with his good hand.

"I'm not sure what exactly happened," Arthur began, "All I know is that you came to my house last afternoon with the brothers as babies. Ever since then, I have been seeing my wand pop around in different places in the kitchen. I don't remember anything that happened before you came here. I'm thinking that... Maybe..."

Francis paused in the middle of shaking powder on Matthew's bottom.

"Did you do this, Arthur?"

The house silenced. The only sounds were the nervous breathing of the nation's and the coos of the babies. Francis quietly finished diaper changing the small Canadian, not breaking eye contact to the Englishman beside him.

Arthur stood still looking at Francis. His eyes asking for forgiveness. He sloppily put a clean diaper on the baby and held the child tight to his chest.

"I'm scared that I might have done this, Francis. And I don't know how to change it. I've never heard of anything like this happening before. But, who else would've done it?!"

"Arthur, we will find a way. Like I've said before, we just need to take care of the children until we fix this."

...

"Bonjour, mon petit."

Francis sat on the living room floor and was trying different clothes on Matthew and Alfred. Matthew laid on the carpet peacefully with his hand hanging in his mouth. Alfred denied putting on clothes and kept trying to crawl away from France and his piles of baby outfits.

"America, come back here. I still want to try this adorable bonnet on you."

Arthur walked into the living room with plates of breakfast in his hands.

"Francis, what on earth are you doing?"

"My children will not be dressed in tacky clothes," France noted, "Thank you for making breakfast. I'm still tired from last night. I didn't realize how hard it would be. And it was only one night."

Arthur picked up a toy and waved it around little Alfred's face. A huge goofy smile spread across the American's cheeks as he tried to grab the toy.

"Good Morning, America."

Alfred laughed and stuck his tongue out at Arthur. His skin was so soft. And he showed so much innocence and fragility as an infant.

"Let's not worry about them," Arthur spoke.

Francis picked the Canadian off the ground and balanced the baby on his legs.

"That's what I've been trying to say, mon cher. Today lets be happy. As a family again."

And at that moment, nothing mattered. Arthur didn't think about the wand or his memories going away. All he did was focus that morning on the beautiful joys now happening in his life. With the man that he just might love...


	5. Papa France

Francis took turns blowing raspberries on the children's tummies as Arthur got ready for his meeting that day. Before Arthur left the house, Francis grabbed him by the arm and gave a quick kiss on his cheek. Arthur jumped back and blushed but refrained from saying anything.

The door closed and France was once again left alone to take care of the infants. He crept into the living room. The house still smelled of tea.

America had fallen asleep on the carpet while Francis said goodbye to Arthur. Matthew on the other hand sat up with his thumb sticking in his mouth.

"How did God create such beautiful creatures, Matthew?" Francis asked. More to himself than to the Canadian in front of him.

Francis picked up the sleeping Alfred and the wiggling Matthew and took them upstairs. He sat Alfred in the crib and carried Matthew to the rocking chair in the corner of the bedroom.

"Matthew, can I confess something to you," Francis asked as he began rocking the infant, "You have to promise to keep it a secret."

Canada blinked up at the Frenchman and continued to suck his thumb.

"There's only been two people I ever truly loved in my life. Of course I've been with many women and men before, but it never lasted longer than a couple days really. Nations can't get married and start families of their own. I guess that's why many of us resort to taking other countries over. Because we desire companionship. We crave love and belongingness... I had to learn the hard way. You've never met her, Matthew, but I've told you the story a million times before. Joan. It was a love that could never be. And she loved me back. However, she also kept her faith in God. Which I respected. But I'll never forget the day she left. It's-... Well, you know the story. I don't want to bring back old memories when I have such a beautiful child in my arms."

Francis let out a sigh and looked down at the baby snuggling his chest. Canada had fallen asleep with his mouth hung open and his slobbery hand holding France's shirt. France gleamed at the beautiful nation in his arms. This was the closest he would ever have to getting his own child. And, he was surprisingly okay with it.

He shuffled to the crib and laid the Canadian next to his brother.

"Matthew," Francis whispered, "If you want to know who the second person I ever loved is; it's Arthur."


	6. Welcome back

-2 weeks later-

Needless to say, the European nations were exhausted. Never taking care of infants so long before had become somewhat of a challenge for them. Arthur barely had any sleep from staying awake with spell books that scattered across the basement floor. Trying to find a cure. Francis staying awake to take care of the infants most of the time.

Spain, Prussia, Russia, and many other countries wondered where the North American brothers went and why France and England started living together again so suddenly. So England had to come up with an excuse that they had all contracted a bad virus in their homelands.

Francis sat in the backyard watching the small children crawl around on a soft cotton blanket. The sun shone through the branches of the trees. Lots of shade covered the nation's as they played on the warm Earth. France sat singing lullabies under his breath. The birds outside seemed to sing along and the wind hit the trees in a slow rhythm. Then out from the quiet atmosphere, Arthur burst through the back door and stumbled onto the green yard.

"Francis! I did it! I found how to fix all this!"

Immediately, they took the children inside. The babies cried, not wanting to leave the warm summer air.

Arthur led them down into the basement and told Francis to put Matthew on the white chalk design that was drawn on the floor. Alfred laid next to him.

"Are you sure this will work?" Francis asked cautiously, "Don't hurt them with that crazy witchcraft of yours."

"I'm not an idiot, Francis. I know what I'm doing. Maybe when they turn back they'll remember how this happened."

France stood back against the stone wall. He knew better than to get in the way of England's magic.

Arthur sat on his knees before the two babies who wiggled against the cold floor. He began to light the candles around the chalk while Francis turned off the lights in the room. Arthur whispered Latin phrases that Francis could barely understand. Suddenly a bright purple shot of electricity surrounded the two infants. Francis covered his mouth to prevent a scream, terrified that the children would be hurt. Arthur closed his eyes and focused.

Then all at once, it stopped. The candles blew out and the lightning escaped. The dungeon room was dark and cold once again.

"Matthew?" Francis mumbled and made his way through the dark to the young nations.

England stood up and ran to the light switch and turned it on. In the center of the room laid America and Canada. Back to their normal selves.

The two North American nations jolted up to their feet and ran out of the chalk circle.

"Iggy, what happened? Why are we in your basement?"

Francis and Arthur gleamed with happiness and both ran to hug their individual children. After a minute of reunion and confusion from the brothers, Arthur stepped away and held his hands firmly on America's shoulders.

"Alfred, do you remember anything? Anything at all. What was the last thing you remember?"

Alfred stared back at the older nation, "Umm..."

"Oh, I remember!"

Canada jumped up and made sure everyone could hear him.

"We were in Arthur's kitchen while he was making scones for us. Alfred, you were making jokes at his bad cooking. Then Arthur turned around and hit you with his wand. You made him quite angry. So the two of us left to go see France, since we were trying to visit both of you. We made it to his front door. I heard a baby cry, and then everything went black. Now, we're here."

"So, you don't remember anything..." Francis sighed.

"Remember what, Papa?"

Francis chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Well, you were infants for a couple of weeks."

England stood in astonishment. So he did cause all this to occur. Surely this all didn't happen just because Arthur got irritated. Or, did he miss them being little? Was he planning this?

America noticed England's solemn face. He headed over to Arthur and stopped in his tracks.

"Please tell me you two changed my pants before we turned back..."


	7. One Mystery Remains

-2 and a half weeks earlier-

The dark night sky hovered over the streets of Britain. Twinkling stars scattered the dark like still fireworks. Arthur climbed into his bed that welcomed him after such a long day from work.

America and Canada were going to visit in the morning. The three of them hadn't been together in a while due to business and other priorities. Also due to the fact that they live in completely different continents.

After hours of tossing and turning in bed, Arthur decided he wouldn't be able to sleep any time soon. Too many old memories crawled back into his consciousness. Memories of meeting, and family, and war. He slipped out of bed and decided to go into his dungeon area to make a sleeping potion for himself. Either that or drive all the way to the store and get over the counter drugs.

The cold medieval stone room was cluttered with bookcases and candles on the floor. It reeked of vibrant potions and rotting wood.

"Where would that book be..." The Englishman mumbled to himself.

He drifted his finger over the book spines on the shelves and pulled out a navy blue covered spell book. He dropped it on the old desk against the wall. Dust and cobwebs flew away from where the book hit the wood. The pages inside were yellow with age. But the calligraphy could still be read easily despite the long years it had been used.

Arthur flipped page after page, looking for the potion instructions. He soon came upon a Osage he had never really looked at before. At the top it read, "Fountain of Youth Spell: Use at own risk. Anyone who performs this shall not remember what has been done."

How did he not see this before? Arthur sat down on the rickety chair beside the desk and moved his eyes back and forth to the writing. A spell that could turn someone to any age. Many pirates and travelers had tried to find something like this for centuries. Who knew it would be as simple as reading a spell?

Then Arthur thought about the North American brothers. Did he dare to use it? If he performed the spell he wouldn't know what would happen. He would be confused. Lost. But no spell went over his head forever.

Arthur tore the page out of the book and jumped out of the chair. The book fell behind the desk, out of sight. Arthur ran upstairs and hid the old piece of paper in one of his cookbooks.

"Just this once."


	8. Epilogue

The FACE family sat in the living room together as Francis and Arthur explained all that happened since the brothers turned into infants. Arthur never remembered how or why he turned them into babies, but it didn't matter. They were better now.

"Whoa dude, I've never seen a baby country before. We would've been the cutest though anyway."

America enjoyed the story a lot. He often laughed at it and made "Back to the Future" references. Canada, on the other hand, just listened intently and tried to gather as much information as he could.

After a few hours of talking and discussing what happened, the brothers got ready to leave. Arthur led America to the door while Francis said his goodbyes to Matthew.

"I'll see you next time," Francis smiled and gave quick kisses on Canada's cheeks. "Honestly, you were way cuter than America."

Matthew gave an awkward laugh and headed for the door. Before he left the living room he turned back around to the Frenchman.

"I'm sorry about Joan, Papa," he said, "She loved you back... Arthur does too."

And with a smirk, Canada left the house with his brother. France stood quietly in the living room with his mouth hanging open. Arthur walked in and saw the surprised look on his face.

"Francis? What's wrong?"

France shook his head and gave a bashful smile.

"I love you."


End file.
